


Any Good Thing

by Aglarien



Series: Seeing With The Heart [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4338113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These characters are the Erestor and Glorfindel from Seeing With The Heart, and the story takes place two years after those events.  It is not necessary for you to have read that story first.  Erestor and Glorfindel are once again on the Great East Road and come upon someone needing their help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Good Thing

Title: Any Good Thing  
Sequel to: Seeing With The Heart  
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings universe is the sole property of the Tolkien estate. This story is written for enjoyment only and no profit is made. Only the cat and the Tanners are mine.  
Timeline: 2961 of the Third Age  
These characters are the Erestor and Glorfindel from Seeing With The Heart, and the story takes place two years after those events. It is not necessary for you to have read that story first.

 

I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again. ~ Étienne De Grellet, 1773-1855

 

Erestor shifted. He felt like he’d been in the saddle for weeks. He had, but that was not the point. He was perfectly capable of sitting in a saddle for months, if need be. The rolling, wooded terrain they passed through was lovely; the birds sang sweetly, though the scenery and the birdsong brought him no contentment. He shifted again and sighed. 

Glorfindel turned in his saddle, a smile barely threatening the edges of his mouth. “In need of a break?” Erestor’s constant shifting in his saddle had not gone unnoticed.

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know. I’m just…restless or…something.”

“You do not sense anything amiss?” Glorfindel asked. Erestor’s keen senses had been honed to exceptional sharpness during his months of blindness two years ago, especially his hearing.

Erestor shook his head. “No. I hear no one else close to us.” In truth, he had a feeling deep in his bones that something was about to happen, but whether it was good or ill he hadn’t a clue, and so held his counsel.

“Let us ride just a bit longer until we can find a stream to water the horses, then we’ll stop for a bit,” Glorfindel said. “It’s nearly time for a midday meal, and if we find a stream we can make a fire and have a nice mug of tea. Perhaps a bit of exercise other than riding Dulinn will do you some good. A bit of sparring practice perhaps?” Erestor’s mood prickled Glorfindel. It was unusual for his mate to be uncomfortable without cause.

Erestor bent and patted Dulinn’s neck absent-mindedly. His jet black stallion had been a trusted and treasured companion for many years. “Perhaps a break will do me good.” He stopped and held his hand up, silently telling Glorfindel to wait, and then sat alert, eyes closed, listening. He nodded his head to the north of the road and guided Dulinn to their new path. “Half a mile away, perhaps a bit more, there is a rushing stream that promises clean water.”

Glorfindel shook his head as he turned Asfaloth to follow Erestor. He couldn’t fathom how Erestor could hear a stream at that distance, but he’d long ago given up seeking an answer to that riddle.

An hour later, the Elves were seated in the lush, green grass of a meadow, through which there flowed a swift and bubbling stream. A metal pot with water heating for tea hung from a three-legged stand over the fire, and Glorfindel sorted out the last of the provisions they’d brought from the Gray Havens. “After this meal it will be hunting and gathering roots for us, I fear.” 

It had been four days since they had left Mithlond, their journey necessitated by communications that their Lord, Elrond, would entrust to no one else to deliver to Círdan. They traveled the Great East Road that stretched from the Tower Hills, the ancient border between the Elven realm of Lindon and the Kingdom of Arnor, to their home in Imladris, and they neared the Far Downs, the western border of the Shire.

“If that inn that was right before the Far Downs is still in business, perhaps we can stop there tonight,” Glorfindel continued. “Their food was good and we might be able to purchase a few days provisions. I’d prefer that to spending time hunting and adding more days to our journey.”

“As would I,” Erestor agreed. The inn was run by men and catered primarily to that race, along with the occasional Elf or Hobbit. “Do you suppose the Hobbit is out adventuring again, or do you think he will be at his home in Hobbiton? I am sure we would be welcome to rest there for a day and you know he would provide us with food for the journey.” The Hobbit, of course, was Bilbo Baggins, known to the Elves of Imladris from his visits there some twenty years previous during his adventures with Gandalf and the Dwarves.

“That is a thought,” Glorfindel agreed. They usually passed quietly and unseen through the Shire, avoiding the towns until they passed the River Baranduin at Buckland, its eastern border, but a visit with the Hobbit would be a pleasant diversion indeed. “We will approach the village after nightfall when all or most of the little people should be abed and check if he is there. A nice rest and bath, a good meal at Master Baggins’ table, a cozy chat around the hearth; what could be better?”

Erestor chuckled. “Short beds, tiny baths, low ceiling and the continual danger of walking into ceiling beams and chandeliers. Nothing could be better. I do hope he will be home.” 

After they finished what food was left, saving only a bit of cheese and bread against unforeseen events, the two tall Elves circled each other in the meadow. Sun glinted off the silver surface of their swords and Erestor’s long, dark locks flew with every movement he made, helped along by the day’s breezes. 

“Bind your hair, or I shall be tempted to cut off a lock for a keepsake,” Glorfindel said, not quite jokingly. His own golden hair hung in a long plait down his back.

“Try it and you will see what happens to that braid of yours,” Erestor quipped back, grinning and blocking Glorfindel’s sudden attack. 

Broadswords clanged together from the force behind them as the well-matched opponents lunged and parried, neither giving away a clue to his next move through glance or tensed muscles. Once the stiffness of the road had been well and truly worked out of limbs and joints, Glorfindel proclaimed a draw, and they rested with a final cup of tea before extinguishing the small fire and remounting their horses to continue the journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The twilight of the evening was upon them when they reached the inn, its hanging sign proclaiming: The Drunken Duck Inn, Alan Trumble, Proprietor, still visible in the fading light. The place was frequently quiet, situated as it was outside of the Shire, but today the courtyard was busy with Men and Hobbits alike, for tomorrow was market day. They arranged for the care of their horses and a room for the night, and then the two Elves entered the public room and sat at a vacant table in a corner, from whence they could view the room and its doors. Once the table had been laid with mugs of ale, a tray of bread and cheese, and bowls of mutton stew, they sat and ate quietly, for the food was hearty and plentiful, and the ale was tolerable. 

A loud, angry voice coming from the kitchens caught Erestor’s attention, and as he turned to look, the door to that inner room swung open. Through the door he caught sight of a man, probably one of the cooks, and a small girl child. The man raised a large hand and slapped the girl on her face hard enough to cause the child to lose her balance and land on the floor. The plate the child held in her hand dropped and shattered. More shouting ensued and Erestor began to rise from his seat.

“Leave it, Erestor,” Glorfindel said quietly. “You cannot interfere.”

Erestor glared towards the kitchen. “But the child…”

“You know that Men consider their children possessions. Do not interfere, dear one. As disgusted as that man’s actions make me, we cannot afford to create a stir here. The child is probably his daughter and they will say it is his right to discipline her.”

Erestor mumbled a few choice words on the morals of Men and turned his attention back to his meal, although his heart ached for the child. She had a head of curly, brown hair, and could not have been more than eight or nine years old. In his heart he knew Glorfindel was right. It was not their place to interfere between the child and her parent. 

After they finished their meal, the two Elves requested that water for washing be sent up to their room. The inn was nearly full, but they had been able to obtain a small room on the third floor. The landlord apologized for it being near the servants’ quarters, but it was clean and thankfully had a fireplace, for the night had turned chill. A strapping lad carried up the water and started a fire in the hearth, taking the copper that Glorfindel offered with a small smile and a nod of thanks.

After washing as much as their accommodations allowed, Erestor curled around Glorfindel in the bed, his head resting on Glorfindel’s chest, sighing in relief at the lack of lumps in the mattress. Two years previously they had made the exact same trip, albeit with more disastrous consequences. Erestor had been blinded in the fight that ensued when he and Glorfindel had been set upon by six highway ruffians. His injury had also caused the two old friends to declare their feelings for each other. During the subsequent journey home, the only way Erestor had been able to shut out what his hearing perceived as blaringly loud night sounds had been to rest his head on Glorfindel’s chest, letting the rhythmic beating of his beloved’s heart lull him to sleep. It was a habit that stayed after they returned home and were bound to each other, and Erestor had yet to change it, much to the satisfaction of both Elves.

The fire crackled in its grate, doors down the hall and on the lower floors opened and closed, footsteps pattered and tramped down halls, floorboards squeaked and settled, and the sounds of the inn quieted – and soft weeping broke the stillness.

“Do you hear that?” Erestor whispered, lifting his head.

“What is it you hear?” Glorfindel pushed himself up on his elbows and listened. He shook his head. “I hear nothing.”

“It is muffled,” Erestor whispered. “It sounds as if someone is crying.” He rose from the bed and walked silently to the door, straining to hear more of the sound. “It is close by.” He soundlessly lifted the handle and opened the door to the room, pausing to listen with his head poking out of the door before entering the hall. 

Knowing it would be fruitless to call Erestor back, Glorfindel rose and followed his mate. Once in the hall, he too could hear the sounds of weeping that came from behind the door opposite their own. The two Elves stood and stared at each other for a moment, Erestor with one brow raised in question. The door was not to a guest room, that much was evident. It was smaller than the rest and bore no marking.

Glorfindel nodded and Erestor cautiously opened the door. The door opened outward, as a storage closet would do, for that was indeed what lay behind it. On the floor of the cramped, dark cupboard lay the small child from the kitchen. Wrapped only in a threadbare, dirty blanket, she wept into her folded arms. The child had to be freezing, as cold as the night was.

The soft light from the lantern hanging in the hallway intruded onto her sanctuary, and the child whimpered and shrunk back into the shadows. “I’m…I’m being quiet,” she whispered, fear evident in her voice and in the haunted hazel eyes that peered up at the Elves.

Erestor dropped to his knees and whispered, “We will not hurt you and I am sure no one else heard you. Why are you here when it is so cold? Should you not be asleep in your room where you can be warmer?” He cautiously lifted a hand and wiped the girl’s tears away with his fingers, leaving a smudged trail behind on her dusty cheeks.

The girl shook her head and pulled her blanket closer. She stared at Erestor for a long moment as if deciding what she should answer before she finally whispered, “This is my room. This is where I sleep.”

“Here?” Erestor asked, struggling in his indignation to keep his voice low. The child was so thin and so scantily clad that the cold would run right through her. The bruise on her face from the slap she had received was clearly visible. “Where is your family?” he asked. “Was that your father we saw you with in the kitchen who struck you?”

The child shook her head. “I don’t have any family,” she answered so quietly that only elven hearing could discern her words. 

“Then who cares for you?” Glorfindel asked softly, dropping down along side Erestor. “Who is your guardian?”

The girl looked confused before finally answering, “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone.”

Erestor looked at Glorfindel, shocked, before finally turning his gaze back to the child. “My name is Erestor, and this is Glorfindel,” he said. “What is your name?”

“I am Brynn.”

“Does the landlord give you work, then, so you can take care of yourself?” Erestor asked, seeking to better understand the child’s state. 

“The landlord is my master,” Brynn said, shaking her head at Erestor’s question. “When I was little, my uncle sold me to him and said I have to work for him and do what he says.”

“What happened to your parents – your mother and father?” Glorfindel asked quietly.

Brynn shook her head and then shrugged. She didn’t know. She had only a vague recollection of her uncle – she remembered it was her uncle who brought her here, but she remembered no other family. All she knew was her life with her uncle had not been much different than it was here. She worked hard every day, hoping to avoid the painful blows, and hoping to be given enough to eat to stop the ache in her stomach so she could sleep at night. Every once in a while a kind traveler would give her a coin, but Brynn would return it and ask instead for a bit of food. Her master would only take the coin away from her anyway and the food was more precious. Brynn had been around enough people to get a feeling if they were good people or bad people, and deep down she thought that these two men were the good kind. If she was lucky, maybe these travelers would give her a bite of food in the morning. As if in sympathy with the thought, her stomach rumbled.

“Wait here,” Erestor said to Glorfindel as they both rose from the floor. With silent feet, Erestor swiftly ran into their room, returning a moment later carrying one of the travel rugs from his pack and the bread and cheese that remained from their provisions. He tucked the rug around Brynn and pressed the food into her hand. “Eat the food now. It will help keep you warm. We will see if we can get you more in the morning. For now, eat and then sleep, and do not let anyone take your new blanket from you.” He tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Good night, little Brynn.”

Brynn stared up at Erestor, clutching the travel rug around her with one hand and holding the food in the other, unable to believe her good fortune. It was a plaid design in black, white, and gray, and so soft. Not only did she have food and the promise of perhaps more in the morning, but she had a lovely, warm blanket. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered. 

Erestor nodded and gave the child a little smile before quietly closing the door to the cupboard. 

 

Chapter 2

 

Back in their room, Erestor fumed and fretted as loudly as his whispers would allow. “We are not leaving that child here, Glorfindel,” he finally said. “To leave her here with these people is to condemn her to an early grave.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I had thought of that as well.” While Erestor chose to pace the floor to accompany his fuming, Glorfindel simply sat on the bed. “Have you considered how we can get her out of here without creating an incident and having a horde of Men follow us into the Shire, wreaking mayhem? I fear every plan I’ve been able to think of ends in disaster in my head.” 

“I suspect the landlord will allow us to purchase her, if we offer the right price. We will try that first,” Erestor replied. “She is obviously an indentured servant. If that doesn’t work, you knock him out and I’ll grab the girl.” The look on his face showed he was half serious.

Glorfindel’s eyes lit up. “Perfect! We combine the offer of silver with your negotiation skills.”

“The only problem is I cannot figure out what to do with her once we have successfully purchased her.” Erestor sighed and sat down next to Glorfindel on the bed.

“The first thing will be a bath,” Glorfindel said thoughtfully. “I think she has fleas.”

“Yes, I’m sure she does,” Erestor agreed. “She needs decent clothes instead of those threadbare rags she is wearing too.”

“How on Arda are we going to take care of a small girl?” Glorfindel asked. “It is not as if we have experience in such things.”

“I do not think it will be difficult,” Erestor replied. “We care for her just like any other in need we would stumble upon. We bathe her, clothe her in something clean, and make sure she is warm and has food to eat and water to drink. It’s what comes next that I am unsure of. We can hardly leave her in another settlement of Men and have her end up the same, but I am not sure it would be fair to her or fitting to bring her to Imladris. It would be best if she could grow up among her own kind.”

“Ah! Yes, that is perfect!” Glorfindel whispered excitedly. “Another settlement of men – brilliant, Erestor! Bree! We will pay another visit to the Tanners. I’ll warrant Mistress Tanner would be happy for the help and would take the child in!”

Robert the tanner was well known to the Elves of Imladris as the supplier of much of their leather goods, and his good wife and children were well known to Erestor and Glorfindel, for it was the Tanners who helped them two years ago when Erestor was hurt. 

“Oh, that is a marvelous idea!” Erestor said. 

“I suggest we simply tell them what happened and ask them to care for the child until she is grown,” Glorfindel replied. “Honestly, Erestor, do you see Mistress Alice refusing? Of course it would be right that we leave sufficient coin to provide for her clothing and such things as young girls need.”

Erestor chuckled. There was no way the generous and kind-hearted matron would refuse the waif and Brynn would probably be raised as Alice Tanner’s own. “It is settled then. Tomorrow morning we will approach the landlord with our sudden need of a child for a servant and ‘convince’ him to sell Brynn to us.”

Glorfindel pulled Erestor to him and held him close. “Then it is time for us to rest. We may need to be swift tomorrow.” He pressed his lips lightly to Erestor’s. “Sleep, Erestor. Sleep. We will fix this in the morning.”

Erestor rested his head on Glorfindel’s chest and listened to the measured cadence of his mate’s heart, trying to get the sight of the little waif out of his mind as his fingers curled themselves into Glorfindel’s hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When the Elves left their room in the morning, Brynn was already gone from her cupboard, but the blanket had been folded up as small as possible and pushed into the darkest corner for safekeeping. After inviting the landlord, Mr. Trumble, to join them at their table for their breakfast, Glorfindel made a point of effusively thanking the landlord for his hospitality, then launched right into purchasing food supplies and settling their bill. 

Trumble was a stout, whiskered man of medium height and only average intelligence, and Erestor did not consider him a particular challenge. When a stack of copper and a bit of silver had crossed the table in payment of goods and services rendered, including a bag of dried fruits and vegetables, a couple loaves of bread, a round of cheese, and dried meats, Erestor said, “I would dearly love to have a servant to help us on the remainder of our journey. It’s so tedious having to do everything by one’s self. My good Sir, you do not perhaps have a servant that can be purchased? A stable lad? A spare cook? I fear we must purchase the person, however, for we will surely not be able to return it and one cannot possibly trust a servant to return on its own.”

The landlord’s eyes lit up in a momentary greedy glow before he managed to hide his interest. “Alas, good Sirs, I have no one I can spare. The inn is isolated, as you well know, and help is hard to find.”

“Oh, come, Sir host!” Erestor said. “Surely there must be someone for the right price! You must at least have a child that can be spared? What of that little dark-haired waif I spied in the kitchen last evening? She cannot be contributing much to the running of your inn but I warrant would be able to relieve at least a bit of our burden on the road.”

Trumble’s eyes gleamed cunningly, and Erestor could practically see the avarice reflected in them. “In a few years, she will more than pay for her keep and bring in other trade,” the landlord answered.

The bile rose in Erestor’s throat and he could feel Glorfindel tense alongside of him at the landlord’s suggestion. Erestor barked a laugh. “Surely those days are several years ahead of you and think of the trouble and cost of her upkeep until then. With the right price, you could barter for an earlier increase in your profits.”

“And what, good Sir, would you consider a right price?” the landlord asked.

Erestor looked to Glorfindel, and the golden-haired Elf laid two large silver pieces on the table. Trumble shook his head and two more large pieces of silver were added.

“Surely you can do better than that,” Trumble said. There was no harm in pushing a bit. It was will known that Elves had more of the wherewithal than men did – and Trumble had no doubt he was dealing with Elves, despite their attempt to hide their distinctive ears with their hair and hoods. They were too clean and their clothes were too well-made to be anything other than Elves.

Glorfindel slowly laid a gold piece with the other coins. His eyes met the innkeeper’s and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

“One more like that and she’s yours,” Trumble said in a low voice, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far. The first two silver pieces were more than the brat was worth.

Glorfindel hesitated, and instead of another gold piece, added a silver; one smaller than the others. “Take it – or we shall find a servant elsewhere,” he said, his whisper nearly menacing. They were going to leave with the child, but he was no fool and would not be taken for one from this man.

Knowing the Elves had reached the end of their patience with him, Trumble quickly scooped up the coin and shoved it into a pocket before standing and shouting, “Crowe! Bring that girl out here!”

The girl was quickly ushered out into the room by the man who had struck her the day before. Fear shone in her eyes at seeing the two men who had been so kind to her the night before with her master. Had her master somehow found out that she had taken a blanket from them?

“You go with these two now, girl, and do what they tell you. They’re your new masters now.” With those simple words, Trumble turned and left the room, taking Crowe with him, before the Elves could change their minds and ask for their money back.

Erestor bent down and whispered, “Quickly, Brynn, come upstairs with me before the landlord changes his mind. Get your blanket and what other things you own while I get our travel bags and Glorfindel takes our provisions and gets the horses. We are taking you with us, away from here.”

Brynn scurried up the stairs in front of Erestor, afraid to think about what was happening, afraid to hope. Not even in her dreams did she think she’d ever be able to leave her master. Reaching her cupboard on the third floor, she pulled the door open. Her new blanket was in the corner of the closet where she’d left it – it was all she owned, along with the clothes on her back. She carefully picked up the blanket, happy to see that her little friend was still asleep within its folds. The creature stirred and woke and she hid it within the blanket, whispering, “We’re leaving. Be good and keep quiet and don’t let anyone see you or they’ll take you away from me. The nice man who gave me some food and our new blanket last night is taking us away from here. I don’t know where we’re going, but I think it must be better than here.”

Erestor carried his traveling pack as well as Glorfindel’s, and called softly to Brynn to hurry as he left the room. Once more Brynn led the way down the stairs and they hurried through the inn and out to the yard where Glorfindel stood holding Asfaloth’s and Dulinn’s reins, the supplies they’d purchased already distributed between the two horses’ saddlebags. Once their packs were strapped onto the horses’ saddles, Erestor tried to take Brynn’s blanket, but she shook her head and held onto it tightly. Erestor acquiesced and simply picked up the girl and placed her on Dulinn before swinging onto the stallion behind her. 

They headed off down the Great East Road, the horses moving at a brisk trot. “Have you had anything to eat today, Brynn?” Erestor asked. In his pocket, wrapped in a cloth, was food for Brynn he had set aside from breakfast.

“No, Sir.” Brynn shook her head and just then her stomach rumbled. She smiled when a piece of bread and slice of cheese were pressed down into the folds of the blanket she held firmly on her lap.

 

Chapter 3

It was past midday before Erestor deemed it warm enough for them to stop at a convenient stream, ostensibly to eat their lunch and give the horses a rest, but in reality to give Brynn a bath. The last thing he wanted was a sick child, but Brynn badly needed a bath, and he did now as well. Erestor could swear he had seen tiny insects leaping from Brynn’s blanket to sneak their way into his traveling clothes, and he resisted the urge to scratch what were surely a few bites. The insects apparently found Elven blood sweet. He was glad he hadn’t placed the blanket with everything else in the saddlebags or the rest of his belongings would have been crawling out of the bags of their own accord by now. That he and his clothes would join the child in the stream for a good scrub with his bar of lye soap went without saying. He rather suspected that even his horse would wander into the stream of its own accord for a cleansing. 

Brynn found herself dozing away much of the morning atop Erestor’s horse. Her stomach was full, the two men who had bought her from her old master were not yelling at her or hitting her, and she was warm and comfortable. For the moment, her new masters didn’t seem to have demands of her, so she kept quiet, hoping to remain as unnoticed as possible. Soft words in a language she did not understand floated in and out of her consciousness. 

They stopped in a small clearing in the woods next to a stream and the Elves dismounted. They had changed their plans and would make camp early today, taking time to bathe and hunt so Brynn could have a good hot meal. Erestor carefully maneuvered Dulinn a safe distance away from Glorfindel and Asfaloth until they could be rid of their uninvited pests. Erestor lifted Brynn from Dulinn’s back and set her on her feet next to the stallion. The child stayed exactly where she had been placed, clutching her blanket and watching Erestor and Glorfindel with wide eyes. 

While Glorfindel began to set up their small camp, Erestor removed Dulinn’s saddle and set the saddle blankets aside to be washed before searching through his packs for soap and insect-free clothing, including a tunic he could fashion into something wearable for Brynn. Their bar of soap he had carried from home was getting thin, but it should be enough. He could always get more from the Hobbit or in Bree if he had to. 

“Come along, child,” Erestor said, placing a gentle hand on Brynn’s shoulder and steering her toward the stream, downstream a bit from where they would make their camp. “Before we do anything else, you and I must bathe and rid ourselves of the tiny insects that seem to have come with us from your old home. Once we are clean and in fresh clothes, we will have something to eat.” 

A bath? She needed a bath before she could eat again? She bathed herself every week when the weather was warm enough, with a pail of water in a half-barrel behind the stables, and had washed her face and hands that morning, like she did every morning. She had already had her bath that week too. She didn’t like washing in really cold water, but if that’s all she had to do to get some food, she wouldn’t mind. At the edge of the stream, she looked around for a place to put her blanket where it would be safe.

“Bring your blanket in the water with you,” Erestor said. “Our clothes and your blanket have to be washed too.”

Brynn shook her head and stepped back from Erestor, panic filling her eyes. “No,” she whispered, holding on tightly to her blanket. 

“It has to be washed, Brynn,” Erestor said firmly. “It will be just like new once it has dried.” With those words, he took the blanket from her grasp and tossed it into the stream.

“No!” Brynn screamed, rushing into the water. “Simon! Simon!” she cried. “Where is Simon?” Her little hands fumbled through the wet fabric, frantically searching. Tears had started running down her face and she choked out a sob.

“Oh, Valar!” Erestor swore under his breath. “What is it?” he asked the child. “Who is Simon?” 

Glorfindel saw the creature first and dove into the water to grab it. A small orange head bobbed to the surface, followed by small orange paws scrabbling for purchase on a surface that had none. 

The animal saw its chance for safety and seized it. Little claws dug into Glorfindel’s chest and the Elf howled while grabbing the cat by the scruff of its neck. Managing to extract the sharp little scimitars from his flesh, he held the animal up at a safe distance. A half-grown, long-haired, gold and white cat dangled from his hand, limbs hanging limp. “I understand the fleas now,” he said dryly. “Have you that lye soap on you, Erestor?”

Erestor winced sympathetically at Glorfindel’s pain and traded an affectionate glance with him. Breaking his bar of soap in half, he tossed half to Glorfindel before turning his attention to Brynn. The child was still silently crying, standing in the water looking more drowned than Simon, holding the heavy, wet blanket in front of her. Erestor’s heart cracked at the sight. “Come, little Brynn,” he said kindly. “Your Simon is fine. Glorfindel has him and will give him a bath too. He will be much happier without his fleas.” 

Brynn stood silent while Erestor scrubbed her hair. Her raggedly dress was removed and Erestor must have decided not to keep it because he tore it up and started using it for wash cloths. When she was clean, Erestor dried her tears, talked to her quietly in words Brynn did not understand, and then he wrapped her in a clean, dry blanket and told her to sit on the grass by the stream and wait for him, which she did. All the while she watched Glorfindel, afraid he would drown her little friend. Simon was the only friend she had - the only friend she had ever had. She’d had a little kitten once before, one of the stable cats, but her master had found it the first day and put it back out in the stable. She wondered what she was going to wear now that her dress was all torn up. She wondered if Glorfindel would give her Simon back. She was hungry and she wondered if Erestor was going to remember he had said they were going to eat after their bath. Simon would be hungry now too. She bit her lips and tried not to cry. Her master had hated it when she cried and it usually earned her a slap so she’d have something to cry about.

Simon’s fur was crawling with fleas and Glorfindel grimaced as he washed the cat over and over with the lye soap, mumbling and occasionally cursing the prickly, flailing animal. Simon moaned. He howled. He caterwauled. He hissed and spat. Glorfindel was relentless, and his hands and forearms were covered with bloody scratches by the time he deemed the cat fit for company. Finally finished with his flea massacre, he held the little cat up by its scruff as he exited the stream to find a towel to wrap the animal in. He rubbed Simon’s fur to remove the excess water, wrapped it up in the towel, and the animal finally quieted.

Brynn’s eyes overflowed as she held up her arms to take Simon from Glorfindel. 

“Hold on to him well, little Brynn,” Glorfindel said, setting the kitten into her arms. “If he gets away here we will lose him and he does not know how to live in the open.”

Brynn nodded and hugged her little friend, rubbing her chin on the kitten’s wet head. "Thank you,” she whispered.

Glorfindel smiled at the child. There was plenty of fallen and dried wood, and he built a fire and lit it before returning to the stream to help Erestor. He’d intended to see about doing a bit of hunting for fresh meat for their supper, but he was soaked and would need to change before that anyway. 

The two Elves scrubbed the blankets and Erestor’s clothes, and Erestor had Glorfindel search through his hair to make sure there were no unwanted black specks on his scalp. Dulinn waded into the stream and was lathered with the lye soap and brushed and combed to rid him of any of the pests. Once they were sure they were free of the scourge, they used the last of their few thin towels and the last blanket to dry themselves and their hair and dressed. 

Glorfindel took his bow and quiver and headed out to find their supper. Erestor had no doubt that he would return with some rabbits or fowl. Perhaps even a small boar. Glorfindel would not kill so large an animal that there would be waste. After braiding his own damp hair, Erestor sat behind Brynn and worked on combing the matted knots out of her dark locks. He worked carefully, not wanting to hurt the child, cutting the worst ones out, and when it was free of the knots, he left it loose to dry. All the while he spoke to her, asking her about Simon, and earning himself some brief answers. 

It was easy to see the child was leery and would not trust him and Glorfindel easily. Her young life had already taught her that even kindness came with a price. The child was much quieter than she had been the previous night, and more reticent to talk now that she had been taken away from the only home she remembered. She was too young to think much beyond the day. 

Erestor managed to get one of his tunics on her without Simon getting loose. The short sleeves of the garment covered most of Brynn’s arms, but the length dragged on the ground. Loath to cut it unnecessarily, Erestor tied it up with a piece of rope from his pack. The extra fabric would help keep the child warm anyway.

Once Brynn was dry, in her new “dress”, and sitting with her cat, Erestor gave her a piece of bread and some of the dried meat. “I think Simon might like to share some of that meat with you if you break it up into small pieces for him,” he said. 

Simon’s little head peeked out of the towel on Brynn’s lap when he smelled the meat and he mewed hungrily, beginning to fidget and squirm. Brynn loosened the towel a little and fed the animal, letting it take its fill before eating herself. Simon ate ravenously, looking for another piece of meat before even fully swallowing the last. Erestor smiled and nodded. The child had a good heart, just as he had suspected – just as he was sure she had. They would not have helped her if either he or Glorfindel had sensed any malice in her. 

Erestor gave her another piece of meat to make up for what the cat had eaten and a thought occurred to him. If he could help Brynn keep Simon safe, perhaps she would find it easier to trust him and Glorfindel. He left Brynn with the animal and, keeping her within eyesight, began to gather small pieces of tree limbs, thin branches, and vines that grew in the woods. Returning to the child with his gatherings, he sat on the ground across from her and began to make a box out of the branches, weaving them together with the vines.

Brynn watched, fascinated. “What are you doing?” she finally asked.

“I am making a little basket for Simon,” Erestor answered. “You cannot continue to hold him all the time and we cannot let him loose, and this will be better than hiding him in your blanket.” The cat had kept quiet the whole morning buried under the blanket, so it would probably feel more secure hidden away in the basket, but he didn’t try to explain that reasoning to the child. “I will make a top for it as well and you can put him in it and set it on the ground, or hold it in your lap as you wish.”

Brynn’s eyes were wide. “Will it be big enough for him to sleep in?”

“Yes, and we will make him a little harness so he can wander around a bit and take care of the things that cats need to take care of. Cats like to explore and climb things but you would not want to lose him, so you must either keep him on the harness or in the basket, all right?”

Brynn nodded and continued to watch as Erestor completed the basket for Simon, complete with a latched top so the animal would be secure. Once Erestor placed the animal into the basket, the child was busily chatting away at Simon, experimenting with picking the basket up and trying the latch. Erestor got more of the rope from his saddle bags and fashioned a simple harness for the cat. He knew well that cats did not normally take well to leads or harnesses, but the basket would get awfully messy if the cat wasn’t allowed to get out and take care of its needs and they couldn’t simply let it run loose. 

“Let’s see if Simon would like to explore a bit, shall we?” Erestor asked, taking the cat from its new home and tying the harness around its body. The rope encircled Simon’s body behind his front legs and above his back ones, the two circles attached with a piece of rope. A long lead was attached to the foremost circle, and this Erestor secured to a tree.

“It won’t hurt him, will it?” Brynn asked. She was worried that Simon would hurt himself or get loose. She hadn’t worried about that before, but the things Glorfindel and Erestor said about her cat getting loose scared her.

“He will be fine. He will get used to it shortly,” Erestor said. “Wait and watch, and you will see.”

At first Simon pulled and thrashed about, trying to get loose, but the harness held him secure. It did not take long before he wore himself out and plopped down on the ground, where the buzzing of insects and the wind in the grasses soon caught his attention. 

Brynn clapped her hands excitedly as she watched Simon begin to explore and pounce on things visible only to curious little cats.

 

Chapter 4

Glorfindel returned carrying two large game fowls, which Erestor eyed with approval. They were easy and quick to prepare, and the meat would hopefully not be too rich for Brynn’s stomach to handle. Glorfindel had also found some wild onions and other roots, and the two Elves set about plucking and cleaning the fowl and preparing the roots. 

Brynn watched her new masters plucking the birds and wondered if she should be helping. They hadn’t said anything to her about it, but she always had to help with plucking the chickens and cleaning the vegetables at the inn. She knew how to do it and would get in trouble if she didn’t do it. Her masters didn’t seem to be mad at her or anything though. She finally got up the courage and asked, “Do you want me to help with that, Masters?”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at Erestor and Erestor raised an eyebrow at Brynn. “We are not your masters, Brynn. I am Erestor and this is Glorfindel. We are your friends, not your masters.”

Brynn tilted her head in confusion and looked at Erestor. “I don’t understand. Does that mean you don’t want me to clean the chickens? I haven’t worked all day and I ate twice.”

Erestor smiled sadly. The poor child equated being able to eat with work. “Glorfindel and I will prepare our supper. If you could keep Simon entertained so he doesn’t try to steal our food before it’s cooked, that would be a great help to us.” Loose feathers were lifted by the breeze and provided a source of fascination and play for the cat. Erestor gave Brynn a particularly long feather and showed her how to move it along the ground to entice Simon into play.

Once Brynn was occupied with the cat, Glorfindel looked at Erestor and whispered, “She does not understand.”

“No. It is all she has known. Perhaps I should have let her pluck the fowl.”

Glorfindel leaned into Erestor and kissed him. “Let her play. Perhaps on this trip she can learn how to be a child a bit.” He looked at Brynn and smiled at the sight she made in Erestor’s tunic, dangling feathers for the cat. 

Erestor gratefully kissed Glorfindel back, feeling like the most indulged Elf on Arda. Glorfindel always supported him, no matter what situation Erestor embroiled them in.

Over their supper, Erestor tried to explain to Brynn that regardless of what the innkeeper had said, Glorfindel and he were not her masters and had bought her only to take her away to a better life. 

“Will I live with you? If you are not my masters, what will happen to me?” Brynn asked, having worked up the courage to give voice to the questions that had been on her mind. 

“It will be better if you live among your own kind,” Erestor replied. “Glorfindel and I know of a family we hope you will be able to live with. They are our friends and are good people who would treat you kindly.” 

“My own kind?” Brynn looked at Erestor quizzically.

“Glorfindel and I are Elves. You did not know this?”

Brynn shook her head. “I have not seen many Elves before. They don’t come to the inn very often. The people you leave me with, will they be my new masters then?” Maybe Erestor and Glorfindel weren’t her masters because they were Elves.

“It is courteous to address your elders as Master or Mistress, but they will not own you as the innkeeper did, Brynn,” Erestor said firmly. “You will work for the people you live with and make sure your work pleases them, but still they will not own you. If you work for someone who pays you in coin or with some other thing you want, they do not own you. Do you understand?”

Brynn thought about what Erestor said. “You mean I trade my work for what they give me?” She was familiar with that idea – it was how most of the other servants at the inn worked.

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean!” Erestor replied.

“Then why don’t you and Master Glorfindel want me to do any work for you?”

Glorfindel chuckled. The child’s intelligence would serve her well in the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

The travelers passed through the Shire as quietly as possible, keeping to the road but interacting with the hobbits only when courtesy or necessity demanded it. Bilbo was indeed home, and on the eve of the third day since leaving the inn, the hobbit welcomed them to his home most effusively. Bilbo took great enjoyment in entertaining Brynn, who he said was like a hobbit herself with her short stature and mop of curly hair. Brynn took to Bilbo as to a long-lost friend, and Bilbo was soon regaling her with stories of his journeys. Simon, for his part, was afforded a comfortable cushion near the stove with a bowl of fish for his dinner.

Erestor and Glorfindel were delighted to avail themselves of Bilbo’s bathing chamber, albeit the tubs were smaller than they would have preferred, but the hot water was most refreshing. After cleaning themselves up – including Brynn, who had to be dragged away from Bilbo – they were treated to a most satisfying meal at Bilbo’s table, including fresh-baked bread and newly made jam.

Bilbo sent them to bed with a promise that he would have provisions to carry them through to Bree ready in the morning. Glorfindel was delighted when Bilbo showed Brynn to a guest room with her own little hobbit-sized bed, and Erestor and he to another room with three wide hobbit beds pushed together to fit their heights sideways. They had told Bilbo about their bonding, and the hobbit had obviously made up the room for them while they bathed. Glorfindel had missed having Erestor to himself these past days.

Erestor turned the bed linens down, chuckling at the array of blankets the hobbit had used to cover the three beds. “How kind Bilbo is to do this for us,” Erestor said. “I do believe we will fit just fine with the beds sideways.”

“Very kind indeed,” Glorfindel said, drawing Erestor into his arms. The gentle kiss he bestowed on his mate soon ignited passions hidden over many days. Clothes were deemed superfluous, and the two fell upon the bed, both needing the comfort and strength that their lovemaking would give.

Erestor squirmed under Glorfindel’s heavier body, loving the feel of their skin touching all down their bodies and of his mate pressing him into the mattress. “Love me,” he whispered before his tongue laved the sensitive skin behind Glorfindel’s ear and his teeth scraped along Glorfindel’s stretched neck.

“I have every intention of loving you so well tonight that you will not want to leave this bed come morning,” Glorfindel replied, followed by a sound that only Erestor could wrench from him during their lovemaking. Glorfindel rolled off of Erestor, and reaching for the vial of oil he had taken from his saddlebag, lovingly began to prepare his mate for their joining. Glorfindel’s long fingers breeched Erestor’s entrance as his mouth took Erestor’s in a soul-deep kiss, his tongue imitating the actions of his fingers.

“Enough! I am ready,” Erestor groaned, unable to wait any longer for his lover. With one swift, nimble action, he’d removed Glorfindel’s fingers from his body and was straddling his mate. 

“In a hurry, are we?” Glorfindel said with a grin, the passion in Erestor’s eyes echoing his own. Erestor’s fingers had found the vial of oil and his hand wrapped around Glorfindel’s hard length, preparing him. Glorfindel bucked up into the hand, making Erestor bounce atop him.

“Now who is in a hurry, lover?” Erestor said seductively, as he abandoned preparing Glorfindel’s cock in favor of guiding it to his entrance and sinking down onto it. His head rolled back as he stopped to adjust to the welcome intrusion. “Yes,” he breathed. As his body adjusted, he slowly began to rock against Glorfindel’s body.

Glorfindel caressed Erestor’s arms as he waited for his lover’s body to accommodate him, savoring the feel of being within the tight heat and wishing that Erestor would come down and kiss him. When Erestor finally began to move, he slowly rolled them over until Erestor was beneath him. He pulled Erestor’s legs to twine themselves around his waist, and leaned in to cover Erestor’s mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue into the sweetness.

Erestor wrapped his legs and arms around Glorfindel, abandoning himself to Glorfindel’s lovemaking and losing himself in the heady mixture of lust and love. Sounds no one had ever heard but Glorfindel escaped from his lips as Glorfindel’s movements grew faster and stronger, and flesh slapped against flesh. He moaned as Glorfindel managed to reach between them to stroke Erestor’s cock with a sure hand.

“Come for me,” Glorfindel said, and his commanding tone sent Erestor over the edge and his seed erupted between them in a mind-numbing climax. Erestor’s climax set off his own, and with one final thrust, Glorfindel came deep within his mate. 

Glorfindel’s body felt like he was falling as his climax rushed over him. Lightheaded, he almost felt Erestor slipping away from him. 

There was the sound of ripping and Erestor felt himself slipping down as the bed moved and split apart. He landed with a thump on the floor, his head cracking against the bed frame, followed by Glorfindel landing atop him. “Owwwww,” Erestor moaned softly. 

Glorfindel recovered first and lifted himself off of Erestor, gently pulling his mate onto his lap. “Are you all right, love?” he asked, his fingers moving over Erestor’s body, gently searching for anything broken. It would be just their luck for something to have been broken or for Erestor to have hurt his head again. “Can you talk to me? How bad are you hurt? Is your head hurt?”

“Shhh,” Erestor managed to get out, wishing Glorfindel would just be quiet and let him catch his breath. After a few more moments, he whispered, “I do not think I am hurt badly. Just let me lay here a moment.” He buried his head in Glorfindel’s lap. 

Glorfindel did as he was told and kept quiet, even with every nerve in his body screaming at him to get Erestor up and assure himself that his mate was fine. After a few minutes he felt Erestor’s body shaking and instantly panicked. “Erestor? What is it? Are you all right?” he asked frantically.

Erestor nodded and turned his head to look up at Glorfindel. A bark of laughter that he had been holding in broke from his lips, opening the floodgates, and he laughed until tears ran from his eyes. Before long, Glorfindel joined in, and the two rolled on the floor, laughing in each other’s arms. 

When he could speak again, Erestor said, “Only us. We broke the bed. However are we going to explain this to Bilbo?” and he was off again, laughing uncontrollably.

Fortunately, the bed was not broken, but had merely slid apart. The ripping sound was found to be only the sheet that had been spread across the two beds which separated and could easily be mended. After putting the three beds back together again and rearranging the sheets and blankets, the two snuggled against each other, content to spend the rest of the night quietly, to avoid further mishap.

“I love you, Erestor,” Glorfindel said, tucking Erestor’s head under his chin and holding him. “Sleep well, dear one.”

“I love you,” Erestor responded, brushing his lips over Glorfindel’s neck. “Good night, my love.”

A minute later, a soft chuckle broke the silence. “I cannot believe that happened,” Erestor whispered. “Whatever will we tell the Hobbit about his sheet?”

“You mean the one my toe got caught in?” Glorfindel whispered back. “We shall offer to send him one woven by Imladris Elves and he will be satisfied.”

Erestor chuckled again. “Perfect,” he whispered, and he let the soft beating of Glorfindel’s heart lull him to sleep.

 

Chapter 5

In the morning, the three travelers were again on the road. Simon now rode in a sturdier basket, complete with a plush pillow, generously provided by Bilbo. Brynn no longer wore Erestor’s spare tunic, tied up with a piece of rope. Instead, she wore a lovely little hobbit frock with petticoats and pinafore which Bilbo had found in a long-forgotten trunk of old clothing in one of his storage rooms. 

It was the evening of the third day since leaving Hobbiton when they finally reach Bree. They rode through the town, following the main street where it curved, and after the bend, there was the familiar sign with the horse’s harness in front of a large building set apart from its neighbors. The shop was closed and dark. Glorfindel dismounted and knocked loudly at the door, stepping back to watch the windows above the shop. 

A head covered with curly brown hair and attached to a small boy appeared at the window. “We’re closed, Sir! Come back tomorrow morning.”

“Good even’, young Willem,” Glorfindel called up. “Will you call your father and tell him that two old friends seek his help once more?”

The youngster’s eyes grew round, and as he backed away from the window, Glorfindel and Erestor heard him shouting, “Da! Master Erestor and Lord Glorfindel are here an’ they got a girl with ‘em!”

Within minutes, the travelers were inside the house, being greeted by Robert, the tanner and fussed over by Alice Tanner as more places were added at the dinner table. “You are welcome to stay here as our guests as long as you need to,” Robert said, always pleased when he could do something to repay the Elves who had been so kind to him.

The Tanners had changed little since Erestor had last seen them, with the exception of the three Tanner children. Willem, now ten, had grown what seemed to be a foot in the past two years. The middle child, John, was fourteen and also taller, and the eldest, Thomas, was now a grown man of eighteen. Erestor knew from Robert’s visits to Rivendell that Thomas was as yet unmarried and still lived at home, tending to the family’s business with his father. They all had their father’s thick, dark hair and their mother’s kind nature. Robert was still his large, burly self, dark hair perhaps a tad greyer, but his smile just as bright. Mistress Tanner looked the same, gentle and kind, and still just plump enough to be comfortable. 

“’Tis so good to see you again, Master Erestor!” Mistress Tanner exclaimed. “I am so happy to see you have your sight back!” She was so excited to see her favorite Elves again that she could scarce contain her happiness as she set bowls of her hearty beef stew and thick slices of bread in front of her guests. “I am happy to see you again too, Milord,” she said, smiling at Glorfindel. “And who is this little one who is travelling with you, and what is it she carries in that basket?” she asked. 

“This is Brynn,” Erestor said, patting the girl on her hand, trying to calm her. “Her friend, Simon, who is a lovely little cat, is in the basket.” He could see the uncertainty in Brynn’s eyes, vying with her excitement and curiosity over being in the Tanner home. “Glorfindel and I wish to speak with you and Robert about her, but that will wait until after dinner.” Turning to the child, he said, “Perhaps we could put Simon down long enough for you to eat, Brynn. I promise you will love Mistress Tanner’s cooking.” He gently took the basket from her and introduced her to all of the Tanners, telling her everyone’s names.

“You are welcome here, Brynn,” Alice said as she took the basket containing Simon and handed it to her son, Tom. “Is the animal tame, and is it safe to let loose in the house?” Alice asked. 

“It was loose in the Hobbit’s home a couple of days ago and behaved itself nicely,” Glorfindel said. “Although you might not want to leave food out where the greedy little thing can find it,” he added with a grin. “It is quite clean.”

“We shouldn’t let it run loose outside yet, as it would probably get lost, but Will can take it out to the barn to take care of its cat business after dinner,” Tom said, ever the bright young man. “I’ll find it something to eat and set it in the kitchen for now.” 

Willem stared sheepishly at Brynn, wondering what on earth the Elves were doing with a little girl. She looked a couple of years younger than him, and he hoped he’d be allowed to stay up after dinner and listen to what the Elves had to say about her. 

Brynn stayed quiet as she ate, sheepishly raising her eyes to watch everyone when she thought she was unnoticed. There was the mistress and master, and three boys who Erestor said were their sons. The youngest was a little older than her, she guessed, and kept looking at her. The middle one was a bit older and eyed her curiously, but not as much as the one called Will. The stew was really good, and she tried really hard to eat nice and proper like Erestor had been teaching her so she wouldn’t shame him or Glorfindel. She managed to clean her bowl without spilling anything on her pretty dress that Bilbo had given her. After the stew, Mistress Tanner had served hot apple pie, and she’d never eaten anything in her whole life that tasted as good. As they sat around the table, waiting for everyone to finish eating, her eyes grew heavy. When she found her eyes closing, she jerked them open again and sat up straighter, and then her eyes closed again.

“I think Brynn has fallen asleep,” Erestor said. “May I put her down to sleep somewhere?” 

“Take her to the guest room for now, Master Erestor,” Alice replied. “We will make a place for her to sleep tonight later, but it will do for now.” 

“It is better that she sleeps and does not hear what we need to speak to you about,” Glorfindel told the Tanners while Erestor left the room with Brynn in his arms. He and Erestor had stayed in the guest room two years ago and Erestor could find his way there blind – indeed, that is exactly what he had done.

“Should we send the boys away?” Robert asked.

“It concerns them, too,” Glorfindel replied, “and knowing you as we do, I think you will want them here. Let me start by telling you the story of how we found Brynn.”

Erestor laid the child down on the bed in the guest room that he and Glorfindel had occupied two years ago when he had lost is sight and the Tanners had taken the Elves in and helped them. Erestor would always be grateful to the family for their kindness. He smiled down at the sleeping child and rejoined the others, letting Glorfindel tell Brynn’s story.

When the story was finished, Robert asked, “What is it you are planning on doing with the child? Will you take her to Rivendell?”

“We had thought of that at first,” Erestor said, “but it did not seem fair to her. It would be better for her if she were raised with Men instead of Elves. She is such a bright little thing, and although she is very shy and cautious of trusting anyone right now, Glorfindel and I caught a glimpse of her true spirit the night we found her in that awful closet.” He stopped for a moment before searching the eyes of all of the Tanners seated around the table. “We have become very fond of her and do not want to leave her with just anyone. Glorfindel and I need to know that she will be safe and taken care of properly, and so we thought of all of you. Glorfindel and I hope that you might be willing to take her into your home and raise her as part of your family. If you agree, we want to help with the cost of her clothing and such things as growing girls need, and if she chooses to marry one day, we will provide her dowry.” He stopped and let his words sink in. 

“Do not answer now,” Glorfindel said, rising from his chair. “Erestor and I are going to clear the table for you and will take care of cleaning up while you talk together, but do not feel pressured into giving us an answer tonight. We will wait as long as it takes for you to reach a decision.”

The Elves cleared the dishes from the table and took them to the kitchen, a sure sign that they had truly shocked the Tanners, for there would be no other reason that they would be allowed to do such work in that home. Erestor poured hot water from the kettle into the washing basin, to which he added some cold water from the water barrels kept in the kitchen. Erestor washed the dishes and Glorfindel rinsed and dried them, and they put them away in their places in the cupboard. After tidying up the rest of the kitchen, they took a lantern and carried Simon outside in his harness to inspect the inside of the barn. The cat visited with Asfaloth and Dulinn, winding around their legs in a show of affection, found a quiet corner to take care of his business in, stopped to inspect a spider web and eat the spider (which made Erestor grimace), and cautiously looked in on the other horses stabled there. A pile of straw provided a few minutes of excitement, and Simon emerged from it with a mouse in his mouth. 

“Oh, good Simon!” Erestor exclaimed. “Just do not carry that inside for Mistress Tanner to see, there’s a good cat. I don’t think she would much appreciate it.”

Glorfindel chuckled from his seat on a bale of hay. “I think Simon will earn his keep here.”

“Yes. I’m not sure I want to stay and watch him eat that so soon after our excellent dinner though,” Erestor said. “I want to check on Brynn, too. If she wakes and we’re not there she may be scared.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Come along, Simon,” he called to the cat. “Leave the mouse. It’s not like you’re hungry anyway. I saw all that food Tom gave you to eat for your supper.” He tugged on Simon’s leash and the cat was coaxed into dropping the mouse before Glorfindel picked up the animal to carry him inside.

They returned to the house and Erestor quietly went to the guest room to check on Brynn. Satisfied that she was still peacefully asleep, he joined Glorfindel in the sitting room. The Tanners were still talking in the dining room, and they could hear quiet voices. 

“It’s good they’re still talking,” Glorfindel said as he laid a fire in the grate. “At least they haven’t said no yet.” He lit the fire and it sprang to life.

“I feel confident that Robert and Alice will want to take her in, but I wonder about their sons – how they will feel about their parents raising another child,” Erestor said.

“They’re good boys,” Glorfindel replied. “I think they will ultimately decide whichever way their parents want.”

“I hope so,” Erestor said. “I really would like Brynn to grow up here. There could be no place better for her than this family. I think they would grow to love her like a daughter and sister and she would learn all of the skills she needs to succeed in life. Alice would teach her how to cook, how to sew, how to keep a home – everything she needs to keep her own family and home one day.”

Glorfindel nodded and moved to sit beside Erestor on the bench he occupied. And they waited. 

They did not have long to wait before Robert joined them in the sitting room, taking a seat in his usual chair across from Erestor and Glorfindel. “We believe we know what our answer is, but we’d like to take a day and think on it, if we may,” Robert told the Elves. “’Tis a big decision and not one to be made lightly, if you do not mind staying here an extra day.”

“Of course we don’t mind,” Erestor said. “Brynn is used to hard work and I suspect she will make a suitable helper for your good wife. Waiting the day will make it easier to judge if she will fit in with your family.”

Robert nodded. “Alice is making up a bed for the child in her sewing room and will move her there. Will she be able to sleep on her own, do you think?” 

“She slept on her own in that foul closet before we found her,” Glorfindel said. “She is happy for any safe and warm place to sleep, and I, for one, will be glad of a day of rest from traveling.”

Robert just nodded again, lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he seemed to push those thoughts away. “Is there anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, Milords?” he asked. 

Erestor smiled. “You have already done it, Robert,” he replied gently. “You are a good friend and I will always be in your debt for your kindnesses to me.”

Robert brushed away Erestor’s words. “You are always welcome here. You know that.”

“And very grateful we are for it indeed,” Glorfindel said. “Your Alice’s cooking rivals that of Imladris, as well you know.”

“Aye, it does that,” Robert said with a grin. He was proud of his Alice and loved her dearly. His Alice wasn’t as young as she once was, but then again, neither was he. He had his sons to help him, and if things worked out, they would soon have someone to help her too. Someone better than the daily help Alice sometimes hired. 

Alice Tanner had dressed the sleeping Brynn in one of Willem’s old nightshirts and put the girl to bed on a cot she had covered with soft blankets in her workroom. Remembering what Lord Glorfindel had said about Simon being loose in the hobbit’s house, she let Simon out of his basket to curl up next to Brynn in her bed. With one last look at the sleeping child, she quietly closed the door and went to bid her other guests a good night.

After bidding their hosts good night, Erestor and Glorfindel retired to the guest room, quietly undressed, and crawled into the comfortable bed. Glorfindel’s legs automatically parted to allow Erestor to settle comfortably between them.

“Do you think they will say yes?” Erestor asked. “I think Alice wants to keep her, but Robert is still thinking about it.”

“Do you? I thought Robert was just waiting for Alice to agree,” Glorfindel said. 

Erestor slowly smiled. “Then I rather think that everything will be fine and little Brynn will have a new home.”

“Good,” Glorfindel nodded. “Can we make love now?” He shifted his body to move his hardening shaft against Erestor.

Erestor chuckled and leaned up to capture Glorfindel’s mouth in a hot kiss.

 

Epilogue

 

~Ten years later

 

“I told you we should have left a day earlier,” Erestor groused.

“We’ll be on time,” Glorfindel calmly answered. “You wanted our coming to be a surprise.” They had stopped by a stream an hour earlier to clean up and change into their finery, so Glorfindel knew it didn’t matter if they arrived at the last minute.

“We’re going to be late,” Erestor muttered, hurrying his faithful stallion, Dulinn, into a faster walk.

Glorfindel just smiled as he and Asfaloth plodded along behind Erestor and Dulinn, content in the knowledge that they would arrive exactly on time.

Erestor breathed a bit easier as the gates of Bree came into sight. They reached The Prancing Pony without incident, stabling the horses and sending their belongings to the room they would occupy later that night. All three of the Tanner sons would now be married, and the Elves doubted their old friends had a spare room for them any longer, although they knew Robert and Alice would have gladly given up their own room if need be.

As they neared the village green, they could hear the music and feel the excitement in the air. Row upon row of tables had been set up and the townspeople, Hobbit and Man alike, were gathered around a low stage. In the center of the stage stood a beaming Brynn, her hands held by a smiling Willem as they stood in front of the town mayor. The Elves were just in time to hear the two young lovers take their vows and see them exchange their rings. To the hoots and howls of the attendees, Willem kissed his new bride, and the couple turned to greet their guests.

“See, I told you we’d be on time,” Glorfindel whispered. “Now, where do you suppose they are serving the ale?”

Erestor elbowed his mate but smiled and led the way so they could greet their little Brynn and the rest of the Tanners. The crowd parted when they saw the Elves. Most of the people were accustomed to seeing the tall pair at least every two or three years when they visited on their travels. 

“Erestor! Glorfindel!” Brynn exclaimed as she left her new husband to hurry down and meet them. “You are here!”

Erestor swept the radiant young woman into a hug before Glorfindel did the same. “Congratulations!” Erestor said. “You look absolutely beautiful, my dear.” Brynn did, indeed look beautiful in her Elven made lavender gown. The fabric was shot with silver threads and glistened in the sunlight. 

“Thank you,” Brynn said, weaving her arm through Erestor’s on one side and Glorfindel’s on the other. “Thank you for coming and thank you for my beautiful gown.”

“No one in Bree has ever seen the like of it,” Alice Tanner added as she joined her new daughter-in-law and the Elves. “Welcome, milords,” she added with a small curtsy. “Come, join us while the festivities start.” 

They moved through the crowd to the head tables and joined the Tanners, greeting Robert, congratulating Willem, fawning over Thomas’ and John’s latest children, and complementing their wives. The food was plentiful, the ale flowed, and the musicians filled the air with lively tunes. The dancing guests swirled by in their colorful finery, and Erestor and Glorfindel watched the happy Brynn as she danced with Willem.

“We did good that day, Glorfindel,” Erestor said softly so only his mate could hear. 

“We did indeed. What would her life have been like if you hadn’t gone and looked for the source of that weeping? Look at her now. She’s turned into a beautiful woman.”

“She’s been a godsend to us, she has,” Robert said, having come up to join the Elves for a bit of conversation. “She’s been like a daughter to us and we all love her dearly. Such a help she’s been to Alice too. ’Twas a good and kind thing you did, bringing her to us that day. A good and kind thing.”

Erestor nodded, and then said, “If you will both excuse me.” He rose and moved into the throng of dancers, bowed gracefully to Willem, and then swept Brynn off into a lively dance.

~the end


End file.
